Hermione Gets A B
by cosmo-queen
Summary: Hermione's not supposed to make mistakes. But she does. What has Snape got to say to that?


DISCLAIMER: I'm a poor unknown writer and J.K Rowling is a famous millionaire. I wonder which one of us owns Harry Potter? Just in case you couldn't guess, it's not me! So don't sue! (Although the plot does belong to me. Everything else is J.K Rowling's and co. Right!)

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HERMIONE GETS A "B"

Hermione Granger was distraught. For the first time in her entire life, she had received back an exam paper with an overall "B" grade. And in Potions! Hermione liked all of her subjects, but Potions had always been easier than the rest. Everything just sort of...flowed. Besides, as the top student in Potions, she was not supposed to make mistakes.

Looking at the first few pages of her exam, Hermione had thought that there had been some mistake. Each answer had one of Professor Snape's neat ticks besides it. It was only when she had turned to the last couple of pages and neat crosses began appearing instead of ticks that her error became obvious. They had been required to write an essay on the properties of fluxweed but, as Hermione quickly realised, she had written an entire three pages on flaxweed instead. Of course she had been marked wrong, the only thing fluxweed and flaxweed had in common were their similar spelling! She had quickly pushed the paper aside, not wishing to see it ever again and pretending to yawn several times in order to prevent a sudden lapse in composure. Ron and Harry had immediately noticed that something was wrong when Hermione hadn't initiated their usual post-exam discussion. After she'd mumbled her mark, she had spent the rest of the lesson in silence, unable to concentrate on anything except the ugly "B" imprinted in her mind. When the bell had rung, Hermione almost ran out of the room.

And thus it was that she now sat alone beside the Great Lake, berating herself over and over again for that stupid mistake. How many times had she told herself, _fluxweed_ was affected by the moon, not flaxweed! She thought that she had that fact imprinted on her brain, and yet she had still managed to make such a stupid, stupid mistake. A costly mistake at that. If she had received the same mark on this section as she had in the other sections, she would have passed with flying colours! If only she could resit that stupid exam!

The anger slowly gave way to tears of bitter frustration. In front of her class, she had maintained her dignity, but she could hold the tears in no longer. She had studied _so terribly hard _for this exam, staying up into the early hours of the morning, depriving herself of sleep just so that she could go to bed assured that she knew everything there was to know. Now, it seemed that all of that effort had been for nothing. She should have just gone to sleep! What good was staying up late if there wasn't going to be an "A" at the end of it all? Sure, she had received "A's" for the other sections, but that didn't matter. Sure, she had passed, but that wasn't the point. She didn't have an "A" on the front of the exam paper. _That_ was what mattered.

A sudden sense of shame flooded Hermione. She had let so many people down. Her parents. Her teachers. She could only imagine the look on Professor Snape's face as he marked those crosses at the end of his top student's paper. Hermione knew he didn't like her very much, but she worked hard at Potions, she appreciated the subject. She was sure that meant something to him. At least, she hoped it did. Otherwise, she didn't really want to imagine the reaction he would have had to her errors.

In the end however, it came down to the basic fact that Hermione had let herself down. She was capable of so much more, but that "B" would forever haunt her. Hermione laughed bitterly to herself. Only _she_ would dramatise something as trivial as a grade. But that was the point. To her, it _wasn't_ trivial. Grades had _never _been something she could simply laugh off. Getting good grades was what Hermione Granger stood for. It was the only reason people took any notice of her. Sure, she was one of Harry's friends, but she'd never have become friends with him and Ron if it wasn't for the troll incident in their first year. And the whole reason why she became stuck with the horrid creature in the first place was because she'd overheard Ron telling Harry that no-one could stand her because she was a teacher's pet, more or less. She'd been hurt so deeply by that comment all those years ago, but now it hurt to think that without all the achievements she'd garnered while at Hogwarts, she'd just be a nobody.

Yet sometimes she wished she was a nobody. Sometimes, it would have been better if she was just an average student, unrecognisable from the next. It would make life so much easier. All the pressure she felt in her life to do well in every single piece of homework, every test and assignment and exam, would be gone. In her heart, Hermione knew she didn't really believe this idea, otherwise the situation at hand wouldn't be bothering her as much. If she truly had experienced enough of the pressure, who said that she couldn't just throw in the towel now? Sure, people would be shocked, but it was her life, after all.

No, she had to keep going. How could she give up now when all the plans she had drawn up for her life depended on her doing well at school? Hermione realised this was one of the reasons why she felt so anxious about her results. What if this "B" had jeopardised her whole future? How could she ever forgive herself? She _wouldn't_ be able to forgive herself, if all that hard work into fulfilling her aspirations had been wasted. Hermione breathed. There she was, getting all dramatic again. Surely, this was only a setback.

Hermione laughed, as she realised that she sounded like Harry after a Quidditch match gone wrong. Almost instantly though, she began berating herself again. This was no laughing matter! Quidditch was a game which Harry played for fun, not because he intended on becoming a world class Quidditch player. On the other hand, her exams were her future. Yet, thinking of Harry, Hermione found herself wishing once again that she could swap her mind with someone else. Neither of her two best friends took exams as seriously as she did, and Hermione couldn't help but envy their somewhat carefree attitude. As Ron had told her when she had confided in him her mark, at least she _had _passed.

To Ron, simply passing was good enough. On the instances he failed, he simply made a joke of it all. Yet his words, meant to comfort Hermione, only made her feel worse. For her, failure was _not _an option. Ever. Anything below an "A" was not good enough. And this, Hermione felt, was her problem. She was _expected_ by _everyone_ to achieve high marks. She had _always_ been expected to do well, and what else could she do but live up to everyone's expectations? She hadn't told any other students but Ron and Harry the mark she had received, nor was she planning on telling anyone else, but she was sure that people would endlessly taunt the "know-it-all" about her "slip-up", if ever the word did get around. She could just hear it- the remarks that the world must end now that Hermione Granger isn't a know-it-all after all. It was truly ironic- she was teased for getting good marks, and yet she would be teased even more if she got bad marks.

It was these sort of remarks, these sort of expectations, that had led to her perfectionism in the first place. She felt as if she was disappointing everyone if she didn't live up to these expectations. Having stayed a perfectionist only contributed to the problem and the pressure. Indeed, half the pressure she felt was a result of her own expectations. And she hated that above everything.

"I'M ONLY HUMAN!" Hermione screamed out to the lake, her passionate outburst arising seemingly from nowhere.

"Indeed you are, Miss Granger," a voice replied.

At first, Hermione thought it had come from the lake, but wiping her eyes, she realised it was merely Professor Snape's reflection that gazed over her from the water's edge. Hermione breathed sharply. Professor Snape was the last person that she wanted to see.

"Sorry, Professor. I didn't see you there. I was just leaving," Hermione mumbled, standing up to leave.

"As was I," the Potions Master replied, "Do not flatter yourself and think I came out all this way with the intent of speaking to you," he added, revealing a basket with a variety of aromatic herbs.

"Why do you assume I would be flattered even if you _did_ come out all this way just to talk to me?" Hermione answered, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She knew she should speak more respectfully towards her Potions teacher, but a feeling of anger had crept into her once again. Though Hermione knew it was not his fault, this was the man who had awarded her a "B". How dare he, as a teacher, taunt her, when he knew nothing of the impact it was having on her? And yet, a small part of her was serious and waited for what he had to say.

"Nothing would please you more, Miss Granger, than if I were to go out of my way and speak to you simply because it would reassure you. You need not roll your eyes, Miss Granger, you know it is true."

"That's merely another assumption. How do you know what I feel?" Hermione retorted, increasingly frustrated. Out of all her teachers, Professor Snape was the least friendly. He knew _nothing _about her, except that she understood Potions.

"I would have felt exactly the same had I been in your situation. What you fail to see, Miss Granger, is that you are not the only person in the world who has set, or had set, high standards for themselves. You are not the only person to have ever been disappointed with yourself. And that, I believe, is an assumption on your behalf," Professor Snape replied.

What was he implying? That he could relate to her? Sure, Hermione didn't deny the fact that he had probably been in the same sort of position before. But no-one could truly understand what she felt. No-one else was Hermione Granger. Before she could express this sentiment to her Professor, he continued with his speech.

"This may or may not surprise you, Miss Granger, but when I marked your paper, I did not care for your errors..."

Hermione interrupted, "Well, if you don't care for my errors, then fine, but I _do _care."

"Your interruption only proves the point I was going to make, had you let me finished, Miss Granger. Despite what you may think, of course I _care _when students make mistakes. I am a teacher. However, I do _not _care in the sense that it was _you _who made a mistake."

"An alteration in one's grades can be a sign of much deeper problems, sir. As a teacher, surely you are aware of that," Hermione responded.

"Your sarcasm is unappreciated, Miss Granger, I do not need you to lecture me on the specifics of my profession. However, since it is blatantly obvious that you were referring to yourself yet again, in your case, an essay discussing the properties of fluxweed instead of flaxweed is clearly an error in terms of your memory rather than a sign of 'much deeper problems'. Am I not correct?"

"Yes and no. If you, as you seem to claim, have been in my situation, then I'm sure you know what I mean."

"I never claimed anything, Miss Granger. But if I were, I would tell myself to stop worrying, otherwise I really would end up with 'much deeper problems'. Remember, Miss Granger, I find no reason to single you out because you have confirmed you are, thankfully, human. Why, then, should you continue to berate yourself?" Professor Snape asked.

"Because, harsh as this may sound, the world does not revolve around you, Professor. Just because you don't see a reason to humiliate me, doesn't mean that others won't find a reason." Hermione replied, unsure of how her Potions teacher would respond to her ever-increasing sarcasm.

"I could humiliate you by deducting a very large number of points from Gryffindor for that extremely harsh statement, but I shouldn't want to depress you and find your grades altered even further. Really, Miss Granger, I would have thought that the opinions of others are of minimal value to you."

"Then I'm afraid you don't know me very well, sir," Hermione sighed sadly.

"And I am not entirely sure that I _want_ to know you any further, Miss Granger. I do not think I could handle your _sarcasm_."

"I daresay you couldn't, considering you don't know when I'm being sarcastic and when I'm not."

"Tragically for me, we have reached the Hall and I cannot spend time discerning the difference. However, I can tell you, Miss Granger, that you need not worry of what others think. At the end of the day, your position as Hogwart's most famous know-it-all has not diminished in the slightest, nor does it look to do so in the future," the Potions Master concluded, turning around and sweeping past a group of first-years towards the dungeons.

"I'll take that as an invitation to raise my hand every time you ask a question in class then, Professor," Hermione called out after him.

"I can barely contain my excitement, Miss Granger," the Professor's voice rang out, as he disappeared around a corridor.

That night, Hermione settled into bed, her spirits slightly raised. Though she still didn't feel any better about her stupid mistake, she had realised that it wasn't the end of the world after all. In the end, she would just work harder than ever before. She would make up for that "A". And maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to look back on the whole incident one day and laugh.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: My, my, I haven't written any Harry Potter fanfiction in a long time. Though I was not contemplating writing anything new until my school holidays in July, I simply had to write this piece. Let's just say Hermione isn't the only one who screwed up an exam ;)


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